


(Brothers and Sisters are) as Close as Hands and Feet

by amirellani



Series: crooked love in a straight line down [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abigail Barton, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Clint Barton with a toddler is the cutest thing I've imagined all year, Clint Barton's sister, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt Clint Barton, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Protective Clint Barton, Sibling Bonding, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, it's still adorable, not that that's really saying anything, slightly inappropriate use of pain medication to escape an awkward conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5968413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amirellani/pseuds/amirellani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is injured on a mission. Abby panics over the possibility of losing the only relative she has left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Brothers and Sisters are) as Close as Hands and Feet

**Author's Note:**

> So it's taken a while, mainly because I've been working on a different, multi-chapter story that is nowhere near finished, but here is the next instalment of Abby and Bucky's story. Hope you all enjoy it :D
> 
> I was totally imagining Jeremy Renner with Ava, for the Clint with toddler-Abby sections. Too adorable for words.
> 
> Also, I've kind of mashed up different elements of Clint's canonical background for this. I hope it works, plus if you don't like it please don't kill me.
> 
> kthxbai

_February 2016_

Floating in a warm, content headspace between sleep and wakefulness, Abby sighed quietly. She curled up against Bucky’s side, tightening her arm around his waist and rubbing her cheek against his bare chest. She both heard and felt the chuckle that rumbled through him, and his lips pressed against her hair. Smiling, Abby sighed again.

The lease on her apartment had run out after six months, and she’d decided not to renew it. Instead she had moved into Avengers Tower, sharing Bucky’s apartment floor. Waking up like this, tangled in the sheets with her boyfriend, she couldn’t imagine ever making a better decision.

Bucky’s fingers danced across her shoulder, feather light against her skin. Humming happily, she opened her eyes. His face was inches from hers, a look in his eyes so intense that Abby briefly forgot how to breathe. Then she smiled, stretching across the short distance to cover his lips with hers.

“Good morning,” she breathed, when they separated. Bucky smirked.

“Morning, doll.”

“Wuzza time?” mumbled Abby, tucking herself back into Bucky’s side.

“Quarter past seven,” he replied, brushing his lips across her forehead. Then they both groaned, when Abby jolted up and head butted his chin.

“What? Bucky! You let me sleep through my alarm?”

Abby went to jump out of bed, only to fall back down when Bucky looped his arm around her waist and pulled.

“Hey!”

“Shhhhh,” he murmured. He covered her mouth with one hand, muffling her protests. “I’ll drop you off at work. Relax.”

Pulling his hand away from her mouth, Abby sat up again and frowned. Bucky grinned at her sleepily.

“I can’t relax. I need to get up now,” she told him. “I’ve got to shower, and eat breakfast, and –”

“Shhhhh,” Bucky repeated.

Closing his eyes, he buried his face in the pillow. Abby rolled her eyes. She tried to get out of bed again and this time Bucky didn’t stop her. She crossed the room and dug through the wardrobe. When she looked back at Bucky, she shook her head in exasperation. He was pretending to sleep again, but she could tell he was trying not to laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said loudly. Bucky cracked one eye open and grinned, poking his tongue out at her. “No, seriously. Ninety-eight years old? Yeah, right. I have eight-year-olds more mature than you.”

Sitting up, Bucky pouted at her. “That’s not very nice, doll.”

“Well, you made me miss my morning walk and I _like_ my morning walk.”

“I’ll make it up to you. How about,” he began, rolling out of bed. Crossing the room, he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “I drop you at work, and I’ll be there when you finish to walk you home. It won’t be in the morning but it’ll still be a walk.”

“I guess…” Hiding the smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Abby turned around. She poked her boyfriend in the chest. “Will you walk with me tomorrow morning, too?”

“Course,” said Bucky at once, grinning. “Now, don’t you have to shower?”

“Mhmm,” Abby murmured. She stretched up and pecked him on the lips. “Why don’t you help me with that, hey?”

Abby squeaked, as Bucky picked her up and draped her over his shoulder. She giggled as he marched towards the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

_August 1992_

“Ma? Ma, I’m home! Your car’s out front, why aren’t you at…?”

Clint’s voice trailed off when a kid ran out from the living room, straight into him. The girl – judging by the twin pigtails her blonde hair was in – wrapped her arms around his legs and looked up at him.

“Hi,” she giggled, a bright smile on her face. “What's your name?”

“I’m Clint,” he replied, confused. “Who are you?”

She opened her mouth to reply.

“Abigail!”

They both flinched when Edith Barton’s screech echoed through the house. The girl – Abigail – ducked behind Clint’s legs.

“Uh-oh,” she giggled.

Edith marched down the hall, a glare lining her face. She walked right up to Clint and reached for the girl, grabbing her roughly by the arm. Edith pulled her away from Clint, and Abigail stopped giggling at once.

“I’ve told you,” she hissed. “You don’t run through the house like that. You’re supposed to be napping!”

“M’sorry, Momma,” Abigail whimpered.

“Of course you are,” grumbled Edith.

Bending down, she lifted the child onto her hip with a grunt. Abigail, her lips pursed in a tiny pout, waved at Clint as Edith turned and carried her upstairs. He waved back, frowning as soon as his mother and the kid were out of sight. His mother had completely ignored him – that was nothing new – but what the hell was she doing with a kid?

Edith returned, sans Abigail, and shot a forced smile at Clint.

“Clinton,” she greeted. “Good to have you home. How long has it been?”

“Three – three years. Ma,” Clint began slowly. He followed her into the kitchen, eyes instantly picking up the multitudes of empty beer bottles scattered around the room. “Who’s the kid?”

“Abigail,” said Edith. “Your sister.”

“My – sister?” he choked. “How old is she?”

“Two,” she said. She began putting dishes away off the sink.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were busy with your training,” said his mother. “And then you were off to the Olympics. How did you go, by the way?”

Her back was to him, so she missed the way Clint’s face crumpled.

“You don’t know?” he asked quietly. “You didn’t watch?”

“TV broke again,” she said shortly. “Well?”

“I won, Ma. Got a gold medal in my suitcase.”

Edith spun around, a rare, genuine smile splitting her face.

“That’s wonderful, Clint!” She tilted her head. “Were you wanting to stay here? It’s just that, Abigail has your room now.”

“No, Ma, I’m good,” said Clint. “I’m staying with a friend and it’s not for long, anyway. I enlisted. I start basic in a few weeks.”

“Oh.” Edith’s face shuttered blank again. “Okay.”

“But I’d like to spend time with you,” he said tentatively. “You and Abigail. You aren’t working anymore?”

“I quit, to look after Abigail,” she muttered. “We’re living off just your father’s paycheck now.”

“Right. Well, why don’t we do something tomorrow, then? We could go to the park, maybe. My treat.”

“I can’t tomorrow. But you could take Abigail for the day, if you want.”

“Okay,” Clint murmured. “I guess – I’ll see you tomorrow, when I pick her up. Around ten?”

“Sounds good.”

“You’ll tell Pa I’m back, I said hello?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” Clint murmured again. “Bye, Ma.”

Clint showed himself out, but before he jumped into his car he looked up at his old bedroom window. The curtain moved. He grinned. A little face was peeking out from one corner, and Clint gave a tiny wave. Abigail’s face lit up. She waved back at him. Then Clint made a shooing motion with his hands, and she vanished from the window. Still grinning, Clint climbed into his car and drove away.

Now. What kind of car seat did you need for a two-year-old?

 

* * *

 

_February 2016_

Abby was ushering her class in after lunch when her phone vibrated in her pocket. As the last student entered the classroom, she sneaked a glance at it. It vibrated again, adding a message from Bucky to the message that had arrived from Clint. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment, and then slid her phone back into her pocket. Stepping inside the classroom, Abby forced a smile on her face.

Her third graders were full of energy, as always, but she couldn’t help the way her mind kept drifting to the text messages waiting on her phone. It wasn’t weird for Bucky or Clint to text her, but their messages coming in within seconds of each other set her nerves on edge.

She sent her last student out the door at the end of the day and unlocked her phone. Abby opened Clint’s message first.

_Hey kiddo – going on a mission, should be back tonight. You and Barnes have to join the team for dinner this time, no excuses. Love you._

Abby tapped to open the message from Bucky. After reading Clint’s, she had a pretty good idea of what this one was going to say.

_Been called on a mission. I’m sorry I won’t be able to walk you home, but I’m good for tomorrow. I love you, doll. See you tonight._

Smiling sadly, Abby gathered her things together to leave. Without Bucky with her, the walk she’d been looking forward to all day fell flat. Back at the Tower, Abby caught the elevator straight up to Bucky’s floor – hers too, she was still getting used to that – and collapsed onto the bed. She could still smell Bucky on his pillow, and she grumbled to herself.

It was going to be a long wait.

Dinner, however, came and went with no sign of any of the team. Abby waited on the common floor, but with the team out of the Tower she was the only one there. She held off for as long as she could, thinking they’d have to be back any minute now, but eventually Abby caved and asked JARVIS to order a pizza. She ate slowly, still hoping that the team would walk through the door.

But they didn’t, and Abby shoved the leftovers – leftovers, in a Tower full of super soldiers! – into the fridge. She went back to their floor, crawling into bed for a restless night’s sleep.

She woke up earlier than she would have liked, and the first thing she did was ask JARVIS if there was any word on the team.

“The quinjet landed approximately three minutes ago, Miss Barton.”

“What?” yelped Abby, jumping out of bed. “JARVIS, why didn’t you tell me? I’ve got to get up there.”

“I have been ordered to keep you away from the landing bay.”

Abby, in the middle of pulling one of Bucky’s shirts over her head, froze.

“What? Why?”

“Because I asked him to, Abby,” murmured Bucky.

Abby spun around, staring at Bucky. He was scratched, bruised, and – grass-stained? But he was okay. She blinked, and then rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around him.

“I was so worried about you,” she said. “You both said you’d be back last night, you’re usually right about that.”

“There were some complications,” he murmured, hugging her tightly. “Abby, doll – you should call in sick to work.”

Abby pulled away from him, her brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because – because you’re gonna want to come with me right now. Abby, Clint – he got hurt. It’s bad.”

The floor fell out from under her.

  

* * *

 

_August 1992_

The car seat, which the shop assistant had assured him was the best out there, was safely installed in the back seat of Clint’s beat-up sedan when he pulled up outside the house the next day. He almost jumped up the porch steps, knocking on the screen door before he opened it and walked inside. In the three years he’d been gone, the house had not changed at all.

“Ma?”

“In the kitchen,” she called out.

“Cwint!” cried Abigail happily, when she caught sight of him. Clint grinned. He hadn’t been sure she would remember him, but he was pleased that she had. The kid was adorable, with her blonde pigtails and her round grey eyes.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, lifting her out of her highchair and balancing her on his hip. “Did Momma tell you what we’re doing today?”

“I – I – I going out wif you,” she said, nodding.

“That’s right.” He grinned. He looked at his mother, who was watching them with a strange expression on her face. “Are you sure you can’t come, Ma? It’d be great if you could.”

“Maybe another time. I’d like a day to myself.”

“Yeah, sure,” Clint mumbled. “What time do you want her back by?”

“I’ll be home any time after lunch. Just have her back before dinner.”

Clint nodded, and poked Abigail gently in the ribs.

“You hear that? We’re gonna spend the whole day together,” he teased. As she giggled, Clint asked his mother, “She doesn’t have any allergies?”

“Not that we know of. And she’s toilet training. She’s still wearing pull-ups, but you should ask her if she needs to use the bathroom. Her diaper bag is out by the door.”

“Cool. Thanks, Ma. See you later, I guess.”

The weather was just starting to get chilly, but Abigail was dressed in clothes warm enough that they could spend most of the day outside, if Clint wanted. His mother had also left a coat out with the diaper bag. He grabbed the diaper bag and looped it over his shoulder. Carrying Abigail out to his car, he listened to her babbling in amusement. He dumped the diaper bag on the floor of the back seat before he crawled in with Abigail.

“Cwint,” she asked as he buckled her into the car seat. “Whew we goin’?”

“Well, kiddo, I thought we could go to the park. Maybe get some ice cream? How does that sound?”

Abigail clapped her hands together.

“Ice cweam!” she squealed happily.

“Yep, ice cream.” Clint leaned back, grinning at his sister. “Wanna know why?”

She stared at him with wide grey eyes.

“Because you’re my baby sister. I’m your big brother.”

“Big bwova?”

“Yep. And that means I’m always going to be looking out for you.” Abigail just blinked at him. Clint chuckled. “Okay. Let’s go get ice cream.”

“Ice cweam!”

“At least I know how to buy your love, if nothing else works,” he murmured to himself, sneaking a glance at Abigail in the rearview mirror.

 

* * *

 

_February 2016_

“Abby.”

Pacing back and forth in the waiting room, she ignored Bucky.

“Abby?”

“This is ridiculous,” Abby muttered under her breath. “It’s been nearly three hours. Why aren’t they telling us anything?”

“Abigail!”

She stopped pacing at once. Her head snapped up and she glared at Bucky. He stared back at her calmly.

“What?” she bit out.

“Laura is here.”

When the Avengers had finished their mission and realised that Clint had been injured, the first thing they’d done had been to load him on the quinjet and head straight for the nearest SHIELD medical facility. Luckily for Clint (according to the trauma surgeons who had received him), that facility had been in New York and just a twenty-five minute quinjet flight away from their location.

After making sure Clint was in the best hands possible, the team had returned to the Tower to freshen up. Bucky had broken the news to Abby, helped her focus enough to dress and grab what she needed to go to SHIELD medical, and then the team had re-boarded the jet with Abby. Upon dropping them back at SHIELD, Natasha had piloted the jet one more time to pick up Laura from Iowa. Abby knew, just from that, that Clint’s injuries were serious. The doctors had to be really worried for him if Natasha thought it was best to bring in Laura.

Looking in the direction Bucky gestured in, Abby spotted Laura at once. Laura had been crying, but she wasn’t now. Abby rushed over, hugging the woman who had basically been her second mother tightly. Laura, drawing in a shaky breath, returned the embrace.

“Have you heard anything?” she asked. Abby shook her head.

“No,” she replied. “But he’s been in surgery for three hours now, they have to tell us something soon.”

“What happened to him?”

“I – I don’t actually… Bucky?”

“It was some sort of – genetically-modified plant? I don’t know. Never seen anything like it before. It had really long tentacle – arm – things. With spikes. We were doing pretty well but then it suddenly grew more arms. We didn’t see how it happened, but Clint got wrapped up in one. By the time we killed the plant he was hurt real bad. We brought him straight here.”

“Oh, God,” moaned Laura.

She went pale, swaying on her feet and looking queasy. Abby grabbed her sister-in-law’s hands, squeezing tightly.

“He’s going to be fine, Laura. He’s always fine. He always pulls through. He’s gonna be okay.”

Laura looked at Abby for a long time, searching for something in her eyes. She must have found it, because she nodded and let Abby lead her over to one of the empty chairs next to Bucky.

“Who’s watching the kids?” Abby asked after a moment.

“I dropped them at Mrs Pratchett’s before Natasha arrived. I didn’t – didn’t tell them why, though.”

“Coop’ll know something’s up,” said Abby, fondly and soberly. “He’ll take care of Lila and Nate. He’s a good big brother.”

But the problem, right now, was that Abby didn’t know who she’d been trying to convince when she told Laura that Clint was going to be okay. Clint went away a lot. That didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified, each time he left, that he wasn’t going to come back.

  

* * *

 

_August 1992_

Keeping up with a toddler was exhausting. Clint was an Olympic athlete – yes, he was an archer but he also kept fit – and his two-year-old baby sister was still running him off his feet. Maybe the ice cream hadn’t been the best idea, but she had calmed down eventually, just in time for lunch. Abigail slowed just enough for him to catch her, and he perched her on his shoulders. She babbled happily as Clint walked out of the park, heading to a nearby café.

She worked her way through a single slice of pizza while Clint polished off the rest. One bathroom stop later and Abigail was trailing at Clint’s side, holding his hand tightly and trying (failing) to make an argument for more ice cream. Clint could hear her getting more frustrated, so he wasn’t really surprised when her hand slipped out of his and she stomped her foot. When the tears and the wailing began, though, he started to panic.

Kneeling down to her level, he pulled her into a hug.

“Hey, no, none of that, kiddo,” he said, hoping to stem her tears. “I’m sorry we can’t have more ice cream, but it’s just not gonna happen. We can have more ice cream another day, okay, if you're good?”

Sniffing loudly, Abigail nodded. Immensely relieved, Clint stood and brought her up with him. Her little arms wrapped around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder, and he could feel the energy draining from her.

“Guess it’s time to get you home, huh,” murmured Clint.

Abigail just snuffled on his shoulder. She was almost asleep by the time they reached the car, Clint rubbing a hand up and down her back. He reached into his pocket for his car keys, cursing when he dropped them. Before he could work out how to pick them up without disturbing Abigail, a strange hand entered his line of vision. The hand picked up his keys and the owner stood up, offering them to Clint. He blinked.

“You dropped these?” offered the pretty brunette in front of him, an amused glint in her eyes as she smiled at him.

“Laura,” he blurted out. “Oh, right, yes, thanks. Hey.”

“Hi, Clint,” she replied, laughing. “Good to see you didn’t impale yourself over in Barcelona.”

Clint snorted. “I would never!”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Laura grinned. “Congratulations. I think everyone in town was watching when you won.”

“Thanks,” said Clint awkwardly, feeling a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Not everyone, though. At least, my parents didn’t.”

Laura frowned at that. “What? Why not?”

“TV was broken, Ma said.”

“That’s silly. They could have gone to anyone’s house to watch.”

Clint shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Abigail stirred then, whining quietly. He started rubbing her back again, quick to shush her. Laura looked at her curiously.

“I’ve seen her around with your mother,” she said. “Is she yours?”

“My kid? No way. She’s my baby sister.”

“Sister?” Laura’s eyebrows shot up. “Bit of an age difference.”

Chuckling dryly, Clint opened the car door. He carefully manoeuvred Abigail into her car seat, buckling her in without waking her up. He brushed thin strands of blonde hair out of her eyes softly, before crawling back out of the car.

“I’m pretty sure she wasn’t planned. Ma and Pa didn’t even tell me about her ‘til I got back yesterday.”

“That’s…”

“Weird? Yeah.” Clint sighed. “I wish I could stay with her for longer, but I just enlisted. I leave again in two weeks.”

“Army?” asked Laura. Clint nodded. “Are you worried for her?”

Clint nodded again. “They’re not the greatest parents. I should know. They were mine too. They don’t want her, and if Pa’s started drinking again, which I think he has…”

“I – could keep an eye out for her,” Laura offered.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“It wouldn’t be any hardship. She’s sweet. So are you.”

Clint’s cheeks heated up. Laura grinned.

Not that he would ever admit it to Abigail – but he really had her to thank for his marriage.

 

* * *

 

 _February 2016_  

Another three hours passed. Tony, Steve, Natasha and Thor had joined them – Thor looked ridiculous, folding himself into one of the tiny waiting room chairs – while Bruce slept off his Hulk-out. Clint had been in surgery for six hours now, and they still hadn’t heard anything. Laura’s grip on her hand grew progressively tighter as time passed, and Abby was beginning to find it difficult to push away her own concern.

He had to be okay. Clint just had to be okay.

Bucky’s hand on the small of her back was the only thing keeping Abby from falling to pieces. Well, that and Laura’s presence at her side. She knew she had to stay strong for Laura. Laura, and Clint, had been looking out for her since she’d been born. It was her turn to do something for them. Abby swallowed quietly, shooting Bucky a grateful glance when he increased the pressure of his fingers massaging her back.

“Do you want anything?” he asked. “Water, coffee? I need a bathroom break.”

“No,” Abby replied. “I’m fine, Buck. Thanks.”

“Okay. Laura?”

“Thank you, but no,” said Laura, voice thick.

Bucky nodded at Laura, and kissed Abby on the cheek before standing up. She couldn’t help watching him walk away, blushing when she caught Natasha’s eye. Laura nudged her.

“Don’t let him go, Abby,” she said quietly. “He’s one of the good ones.”

“Yeah,” replied Abby, just as quietly. “He is.”

Her small smile fell off her face when the doors opened. A doctor came out, haggard and searching for something. Abby squeezed Laura’s hand.

“Agent Barton?”

“Yes,” said Laura at once. She stood, and Abby stood with her. “Is he okay?”

“I won’t lie to you – it was touch and go for a while. There was a lot of internal bleeding. But,” said the Doctor. “We’re confident we caught all of it. On top of that he has several cracked ribs, a bruised collarbone, and three broken toes on his right foot.”

“He did kick that plant a lot,” Natasha muttered to Steve. His mouth twitched, and Natasha smirked.

“What – what does that mean, though?” demanded Abby.

“It’s going to be a long process. He’ll probably need follow-up surgeries. But there is nothing stopping him from making a full recovery, so long as he obeys our instructions. Agent Barton’s reputation precedes him.”

“Oh, he’ll follow your instructions,” Laura guaranteed, her shoulders loosening and her relief obvious in her voice. “I’ll make sure of it. Call it payback for scaring me like this.”

The doctor huffed out a laugh.

“Good to know. Now, we’re moving Agent Barton to a recovery room. He’s still unconscious, but perhaps you’d like to see him?”

Abby tried to let Laura go in by herself first but she refused, dragging Abby in with her. Clint was pallid, his skin waxy, but he was as warm as ever when Abby held his hand briefly.

“Laura,” Abby murmured. “I think I’m gonna head back to the Tower. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and – now I know he’s okay…”

“Of course, baby,” said Laura, smiling at her softly. “I’ll see you later. Guess I’m going to be out here for a while. Tell the others they can come in, if they want?”

Nodding, Abby ducked out of the room. She passed on Laura’s message and walked straight into Bucky’s arms.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You okay?”

“Wanna go home,” she mumbled. “Please?”

“Sure, doll.”

 

* * *

 

_April 1998_

“Clint!”

Dropping his duffle bag, Clint caught the tiny body leaping at him just in time. He laughed, spinning his baby sister around. It was probably quite a sight, him in his fatigues and Abby in a pink ruffled dress that had his mother written all over it, twirling in the middle of the airport.

“Hey, kiddo!” he said once he stopped spinning. She wrapped her legs around his waist. “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah!” she said. “Are you gonna be here for my birthday? You missed it last year.”

Clint looked over her shoulder, to where his fiancé was waiting and watching. His mouth twisted.

“I don’t think so, Abby. I’ve got to go back right after the honeymoon. But hey, before the wedding, we’ll go out for dinner for your birthday, just you and me. How old are you gonna be this time? Six?”

“No!” she shrieked indignantly, and giggled. “I’ll be eight, silly.”

“What? Nooooo. That can’t be right!”

“Yes!” Abby insisted. “I’ll be eight in June.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you.”

Clint twisted Abby so that she was on his hip, and picked up his duffle bag. He groaned loudly, mostly for show, and saw Laura roll her eyes. He grinned, and then kissed Abby on the cheek.

“You’re getting too big for this, kiddo.”

“Am not,” said Abby at once, hiding her face in Clint’s neck.

He glanced at Laura apologetically, and she shrugged. Leaning around Abby, she kissed Clint soundly. Abby made a face when they separated.

“I missed you,” said Laura quietly, smiling at Clint.

“Missed you more,” he murmured.

“Clint,” piped up Abby. “Can Laura come to my birthday dinner too?”

The two adults laughed, and Clint jostled Abby on his hip.

“If that’s what you want, sure.”

In the back seat of the car, Abby sang along loudly to the radio. Clint watched her for a while, grinning, before facing the front again. Resting a hand on Laura’s thigh as she drove, his face twisted in thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“How’s everything been?” Clint asked quietly.

Laura bit her lip.

“You’re asking because of the bruises, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. What happened?”

“Your mother said she walked into a door.”

Snorting, Clint shook his head. “I’ve heard that one before. And Abby?”

“Abby –” Laura hesitated. “Abby said your father hit her. His drinking’s getting worse, Clint.”

Clint growled, jaw clenching as he stared out the window. Abby was oblivious in the back seat.

“I’ll talk to him after her birthday dinner. He can’t keep doing this.”

Dropping Abby back at home from her birthday dinner, Clint stormed out of the house.

A week later, Abby wore more makeup at the wedding than any eight-year-old flower girl should have had to, covering up the fresh bruises on her arms and one on her cheek.

Harold and Edith Barton didn’t come to the wedding.

 

* * *

 

_February 2016_

It was only a short flight back to the Tower, but Abby didn’t say anything. She let Bucky guide her to the elevator and onto their floor, chewing on her lower lip steadily. She walked into the kitchen and started pulling things out of the fridge: bread, butter. Frowning, Bucky came up behind her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, rested his chin on her shoulder. Abby was quivering from head to toe. Bucky brushed his lips against her neck, and the butter knife she was holding clattered onto the bench top. Whimpering quietly, she twisted and pressed her face into Bucky’s shirt. One of his hands cupped the back of her head. The other started rubbing her back.

“Okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay, doll. I got you.”

He knew she was crying. He could feel the sobs, shaking her entire body, and soon he could also feel her tears soaking through his shirt. Bending his knees, Bucky reached an arm under Abby’s thighs and picked her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck, and she kept her face hidden in his shoulder as Bucky carried her over to the couch.

He sat, and Abby curled up in his lap. Bucky carded his fingers through her hair slowly, keeping his own breathing steady in an effort to get Abby to match it. He could tell it wasn’t working, though. He knew Abby had been keeping her own panic about Clint contained, making herself a foundation of strength for Laura. Now it was all pouring out of her.

“Hey, hey, shhhh,” he soothed. “It’s okay, Abby.”

“Clint, he’s – he’s,” Abby choked out. “He’s hurt.”

“Yeah, doll, but he’s gonna be fine. You heard the doctors, he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

“I c-can’t lose him. I can’t, not him too, I can’t lose him.”

“You’re not gonna lose him,” murmured Bucky. “He’s gonna be okay. Abby, you gotta breathe, doll. Slowly.”

“Bucky,” she gasped. “Bucky, Clint’s –”

“Clint’s going to be okay,” he said firmly. “You need to breathe, Abby. With me, now, okay?”

With a strangled whimper, Abby nodded. She pressed her face further into his chest, mirroring the rhythm of Bucky’s breathing with her own. He sat still, his fingers moving constantly through her hair as he whispering soothingly. When he looked properly at her face again, he realised she was asleep.

“Okay,” he murmured. “We’ll stay like this for a while.”

Abby slept for maybe half an hour. In the end, it was her aching stomach that woke her. Bucky refused to let her get up, though, tucking her under a blanket on the couch before he started puttering around in the kitchen.

“I told you,” she said hoarsely. “There’s half a pizza in the common fridge. You can just get it and heat it up.”

“And I told _you_ , any pizza you left in that fridge is in Thor’s stomach by now. Let me take care of you, okay, doll?”

Abby’s lips twitched, and she nodded. “Okay, Buck.”

The grilled cheese was a little too grilled, and the tomato soup was from a can. But curled up on the couch, her feet tucked under Bucky’s leg when he sat back down, it was one of the best meals she could remember having.

 

* * *

 

_September 2002_

“Hawkeye.”

Clint paused on his way through the hall, turning in the direction he’d heard his codename come from. He nodded at Coulson.

“Sir?”

“Good job on that mission in Marrakesh last week,” said Coulson pleasantly. “Your report could use some work, though.”

“Yeah, sorry boss,” Clint chuckled. “I wasn't the best student in school, not when it came to English.”

“So it wouldn’t help if gave you back a graded copy?”

“Nope,” said Clint, shaking his head ruefully. “I used them for target practice. Straight in the trash. I was doing trick throws by fourth grade.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. That shot you took in –”

Clint’s phone chose that moment to ring, obnoxiously and with the specific tone that told him his wife was calling. He pulled the phone from his pocket and frowned. Laura never called when she knew he was at SHIELD.

“Sorry, sir, but I have to take this.”

Coulson waved him off, and Clint flipped open his phone. He walked down the hall again, ducking into the first secure, empty room he found.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Is everything okay?”

“ _No. Clint, you – you need to come home._ ”

Clint’s frown only deepened when he heard a faint sobbing on the other end of the line. It wasn’t Laura. Her voice was shaky, but she wasn’t crying.

“What’s happened?”

“ _It’s your parents_.”

“What about them?”

“ _They – Clint, they’re gone. Last night. Your father was drunk. He crashed the car into a tree._ ”

He tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly grown in his throat.

“Is Abby okay?”

“ _She – she was in the car. She broke her arm and she’s covered in bruises, but she’s okay. I brought her home this morning._ ” Laura’s voice muffled slightly. “ _Abby, baby, do you want to talk to Clint?_ ”

There was a slight rustling as the phone changed hands.

“ _Clint?_ ”

“Hey, kiddo,” said Clint, more relief in his voice than he cared to admit. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“ _M-me too_.” Abby swallowed. “ _Pa ran out of beer and – and he made Momma and me go with him to get more. But he wasn’t – he couldn’t drive properly and he h-hit the tree. They’re – they’re…_ ”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed, when Abby choked on a sob.

“ _Are you coming home?_ ”

“Yeah, kiddo. I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise.”

And he was. All it took was a quick word with Fury, and Clint was placed on personal leave for as long as it took him to sort out everything his parents had left behind. He caught a civilian flight out to Iowa. Six hours after Laura’s phone call, he was walking up the porch steps of their farmhouse.

Abby flew at him the moment he stepped through the door, sobbing into his chest as he carried her to the living room. Clint held her as she cried herself out. A few days later, after the funeral, Laura did the same for him in the darkness of their bedroom when he finally allowed himself to cry.

 

* * *

 

_February 2016_

“You’re a dick.”

Clint groaned, pushing himself into an upright position and leaning back into the pillows.

“I love you too, kiddo,” he said dryly. “C’mere.”

Abby, who had been hovering in the doorway, crossed the room and perched carefully on the side of Clint’s bed. She smiled timidly, reaching out and tangling her fingers in Clint’s.

“What, no hug?”

“Don’t be stupid, you have broken ribs and internal injuries and a bruised –”

“Okay, okay, I get the point,” grumbled Clint. “I’m a stupid dick. But I’m taking a rain check on that hug.”

“Of course,” Abby murmured.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I took the rest of the week off. I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but you, anyway.” She bit her lip. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got beat up by a tree,” chuckled Clint, but when Abby didn’t laugh he grew serious. “I’m okay, Abby. I promise.”

“B-but you weren’t,” she forced out. “You were in surgery for six hours, Clint, you could have died.”

“But I didn’t,” insisted Clint. Abby stared at him. “Abby, kiddo, I’m okay. Yeah, my job’s dangerous. But I’m always going to be looking out for you. You, Laura, the kids, you’re my world. I do what I do to make sure you’re all safe. If anything happened, to any of you, it would kill me.”

“I know,” Abby whispered. “It’s just – seeing you like this, it scares me. I love you so much, Clint. You’re all I have. I can’t lose you.”

“Hey, who said anything about losing me?” he scoffed. “You are absolutely, totally stuck with me. _Forever_.”

Abby snorted, but she finally cracked a sincere smile at Clint.

“I mean it. And I'm not all you have, not anymore. When you and Barnes get hitched, I’ll be coming on the honeymoon with you.”

She went to punch him in the shoulder, stopping herself just in time.

“Oh, if you weren’t broken right now,” she growled. “That better be the drugs talking.”

Clint barked out a laugh, and groaned. “Ouch. Ribs.”

“Serves you right,” said Abby snootily. “Bucky and I aren’t getting married any time in the near future, and when we do you are not coming anywhere _near_ our honeymoon.”

“When?” spluttered Clint. “ _When_ you get married? Oh, no. No, no, _no_. Abigail Barton, you are far too young to be getting married. He’s way too old for you, he’s what, ninety-nine?”

“Ninety-eight,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Close enough. My point _is_ , you are not getting married for at least another twenty years, Abigail.”

“Clint…”

“No. Barnes? Barnes, I know you’re out there, get your arse in here!”

“Clint, hey, relax, I was kidding, okay?” Abby said.

Clint was working himself up, and she didn’t need to be a doctor to know that wasn’t good for him. Abby laid a gentle hand on his bicep and subtly pressed the call button.

“Clint –”

“Hey, is everything okay?” Bucky asked, sticking his head in the door. “Should I get a doctor?”

“Yes, please,” said Abby at once, but grimaced when Clint spoke up.

“No, you stay right there. You two,” he said, pointing between Abby and Bucky. “Are not getting married. No.”

Bucky blinked.

“Damn it, Clint,” muttered Abby. Just then, a nurse slipped into the room past Bucky. “Oh, thank God. I think he needs some more pain medication, could you give him something?”

“What? Hey, no, I don’t need anything. Stop that!”

Clint was still gesticulating wildly as the drugs took effect. Abby watched him fall asleep, smiling wryly. She squeezed his hand once more before sliding off the bed, slipping her hand into Bucky’s.

“Come on,” she said. “He’ll be out for hours, might as well go home.”

She pulled Bucky along behind her easily enough. He seemed to be in a state of shock, but Abby tried not to think about it. In the elevator, however, he seemed to snap out of it.

“Marriage, huh?”

Abby blushed, backtracking straight away. Just because she’d imagined what her future might be with Bucky didn’t mean he had.

“Clint started it. Said he’d be coming on our honeymoon and I couldn’t resist messing with him. I didn’t mean anything by it, it was just a –”

Bucky silenced her rambling by kissing her. He left Abby breathless when he pulled away, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I get it, doll. Let’s go home.”

Grinning at him dazedly, Abby nodded. They boarded the Avengers jet and she buckled herself into the co-pilot’s seat.

“Oh,” added Bucky, starting up the quinjet. “And there’s no way Clint is coming on our honeymoon. Absolutely not.”

There was a moment’s silence, and then –

“Wait, what?”

Bucky grinned.

“Bucky!”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think pleasepleaseplease. :)


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